Native to the Americas, the turkey vulture (Cathartes aura) travels widely in search of sustenance. While usually foraging alone, it relies on other individuals of its species for companionship and mutual protection. Sometimes misunderstood, sometimes feared, sometimes shunned, it nevertheless performs an important role in the ecosystem.
This scavenger bird is a marvel of efficiency. Rather than expend energy flapping its wings, it instead locates uplifting columns of air, and spirals within them in order to glide to greater heights. This behavior has been mistaken for opportunism, interpreted as if it is circling doomed terrestrial animals destined to be its next meal. In truth, the vulture takes advantage of these thermals to gain the altitude needed glide longer distances, flying not out of necessity, but for the joy of it.
It also avoids the exertion necessary to capture live prey, preferring instead to feast upon that which is already dead. In this behavior, it resembles many humans.
It is not what most of us would consider to be a pretty bird. While its habits are often off-putting, or even disgusting, to members of more fastidious species, the turkey vulture helps to keep the environment from being clogged with detritus. Hence its Latin binomial, which translates to English as "golden purifier."
I rarely know where the winds will take me next, or what I might find there. The journey is the destination.
Having been to Nashville, I can kinda see it. Broadway (the main party area) is a spectacle. If you head out to the Parthenon/Vanderbilt area, though, it's a lot different. When I was out shopping and chatting with locals, they tended to agree that the area by the Parthenon was the most chill, so I'm counting that as a local experience.
On a broader note, the original link contains an interesting phrase: "where they felt herded into certain experiences". I'm damn curious how people end up feeling this way, especially travelers. If there's anyone that should be able to dodge that feeling, it should be an experienced traveler. Hell, the squid and I managed to avoid the vast majority of London's most notorious tourist traps because I wanted to take a tour of the city's Brutalist sites. And with Chicago, well, if you go to a Cubs game, Wrigley Field is actually in a fairly residential part of the city. You'll get a glimpse into local life just walking to/from the game, especially if you put your thinking cap on and opt for the Sheridan L platform and not the Addison one.
You know I think I found a perfect way to be honest and travel with the pooch! Drive in your own vehicle! You'll see more sights, stay in a pet friendly hotel and maybe have some adventures. But thats just my opinion.
We've been flying two or three times a year the last few years, and with layovers and return flights that's probably eight or ten different flights. I haven't seen a single service dog. I wonder if it's more of a problem on other airlines or for certain departure point and destinations?
Oh, wait. At least half of those are international flights. I don't know how or if this applies to service dogs, but pets for sure have to quarantine before they can cross international borders. When we moved to Germany the second time, we had two dogs, and we rehomed them rather than put them in quarantine for (six months? I think it was).
And yet, they never ask people who had siblings things like "Was it hard, not being the center of attention?" Or, "How did it feel to feud with your siblings over the inheritance?"
To be fair, when it comes to the latter question, it doesn't really need to be asked because a lot of the time people will come out and complain about it on their own. That's what happened with my father-in-law, anyway.
And I will say this. Even though I was an only child, big family gatherings were a part of my childhood, and I generally enjoyed them. I do kind of miss it in middle age and do sometimes go overboard when it comes to giving Christmas gifts as a result.
"According to travelers." How about according to locals, or, I dunno, neutral parties?
Whatever. No one should take lists like this seriously, anyway.
If you’ve ever come home from a trip feeling like you spent more time in souvenir shops than local hotspots, you're not alone.
Never been to a beach town, huh? The souvenir shops are the local hotspots.
A new study from travel insurance provider InsureandGo...
How very scientific.
...suggests that several major U.S. cities have earned a reputation for coming off as tourist productions rather than authentic, lived-in places.
There is, of course, a little bit more to the world than the US, but this article just focuses on that.
The study reviewed more than 1.3 million Google Maps reviews across 144 global cities, tracking how often travelers described experiences as "authentic," "local" or "traditional" versus "tourist trap" or "overpriced."
Okay. At least they had criteria in mind and presumably didn't just sit there and brainstorm a list of cities they personally hated. It's still a bit subjective.
Chicago topped the global list as the least authentic city, earning a remarkably low score of 2 out of 100.
Pfft. The only thing inauthentic about Chicago is their "pizza."
Las Vegas landed close behind at number three...
Oh, come on. If I were pulling city names out of my ass for "inauthentic," Vegas would be at the very tippity-top of the list.
Nashville came in at number four globally.
Okay. I have no opinions about Nashville.
Boston rounds out the U.S. cities deemed the most inauthentic, at number six in the world. Its rich history and walkability draws millions, but travelers frequently described central areas of the city as crowded and geared toward visitors rather than residents.
...so what? "We want that sweet, sweet tourism money" is an authentic declaration.
It's worth noting that these rankings don't mean these cities aren't worth visiting. They're popular for a reason.
"No one goes there anymore. It's too crowded." -Yogi Berra
The article ends with the full Top 10 list of "inauthentic" cities. Venice, I could see, though I've never been there. But come on. Brussels? Get the fuck outta heah, as they say authentically in Boston.
Comment • View 1 comment 
